


Streetlights

by cariboucat



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Butterflies, Canon Compliant, Fluff, M/M, just fluff and butterflies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-27
Updated: 2015-12-27
Packaged: 2018-05-09 17:29:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5549183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cariboucat/pseuds/cariboucat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hinata wakes up on the bus ride back from a practice match.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Streetlights

Roaring filled Hinata’s ears.

First, the roaring of a crowd as he spiked the final, winning point of a volleyball match that had dragged on for centuries. Then it shifted to only one voice, a relentless, deafening chant. “Dumbass, dumbass Hinata!” repeating endlessly like a scratched CD stuck on the loudest volume setting. Then the scolding distorted until it turned to static, becoming the muted roar of water. Hinata was deep beneath the waves of the ocean, currents tossing him around like driftwood. He looked up and saw a faint light, and swam toward it with all his strength. He chased the last bubbles of air as they escaped his lips, swimming till his limbs burned with exertion. He could see the sunlight more clearly as it glistened off the waves, and with one final push he broke the water’s surface, gasping for air.

Hinata’s eyes snapped open as he jolted awake. The continuous roaring of his dream had been replaced by the deep hum of a bus engine and the steady tread of tires over asphalt. It was dark, but when he craned his neck a little over the seat in front of him, he could see the tops of his teammates’ heads each time a streetlight strobed across the bus’s windows. Most of them were fast asleep, exhausted by the long day full of practice matches. Hinata relaxed back into his seat, feeling its fabric scratch against the backs of his thighs as he slid down into a slouch.

Hinata turned to his left to stare out the window, but found that it was mostly blocked by Kageyama, fast asleep against the glass. Streetlights flashed rhythmically across the relaxed planes of Kageyama’s face. He looked surprisingly vulnerable, all the usual lines of tension and anger softened to peaceful curves. Long breaths lifted his chest slowly in steady intervals, exhales puffing short and gentle from his lips.

Hinata felt his fingers twitch on the seat as he watched. Almost involuntarily, he raised his hand slowly and carefully until his fingers were level with Kageyama’s cheekbone. His hand hovered there for a moment as Hinata briefly wondered what he was about to do. Before he could come to a decision, the tip of Hinata’s pinky brushed a strand of Kageyama’s hair, and he reflexively jerked his hand back, holding it against his chest like a small, wayward animal. His eyes flicked back to Kageyama’s face, thankfully still relaxed by sleep, blissfully unaware. Hinata gulped, attempting to swallow the tingly, fluttering sensation that had overtaken his stomach, setting his nerves alight. Again, he wondered what he had been about to do. At the same time, he wanted to try it again and find out.

Hinata took a deep breath and raised his hand up again, the movement painstakingly slow and careful. This time, when his fingers brushed Kageyama’s hair, it was intentional. A soft, sleep-laden sigh escaped Kageyama’s lips, and Hinata froze in panic. His every nerve was on fire, tingling from his spine to his fingertips as he prayed for Kageyama to stay asleep. Hinata had no idea how he would defend his actions if he was caught; he couldn’t even explain to _himself_ what he was doing.

When Kageyama still hadn’t stirred after another minute of panicked silence, Hinata breathed a sigh of relief, letting out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. He let his focus return to the inky black strands beneath his fingers, gradually adjusting to the overwhelming butterflies that wracked his slight frame. With a glance to Kageyama’s face, ready to pull his hand back and play innocent at the slightest twitch, Hinata steadied himself and brushed his fingers lightly over the silky hairs.

It was soft. It was _really_ soft. The butterflies rioted and rebelled as Hinata felt his face grow warm. He slowly pulled his hand back, cradling it against his chest once again. He wanted to touch it again, wanted to stroke it and run his fingers through it and bury his face in the midnight strands. Hinata’s stomach lurched at the thought, and he covered his face, sure it must be glowing with the fire that blazed across his cheeks.

A few minutes passed, and the fluttering restlessness had calmed down to a distinct longing. He wanted to touch Kageyama again.

Hinata cautiously glanced up at the setter’s sleeping face. He was actually rather handsome like this, when his features weren’t twisted and sharpened into anger, screaming an endless chorus of “Dumbass, dumbass Hinata!” The set of his lips was neutral and relaxed, and the lashes of his closed eyes just barely brushed the top of his cheekbones. His skin was smooth and tan, any flaws blotted out by the moonlit palette.

Hinata bit his lip, glancing down at his hand before turning back to Kageyama. He reached out slowly, carefully, and let his fingertips hover within a centimeter of Kageyama’s jaw before he panicked and pulled back. It was too risky, Kageyama might never forgive him if he caught Hinata doing something so questionable. Besides that, he didn’t want to wake up the entire bus by angering the volatile setter.

Hinata sighed and flopped back against his seat, hands in his lap. He still wanted to touch Kageyama. At this point, any contact at all would be enough. His foot tapped with restlessness as he glanced over again. He caught a twitch of movement in his peripheral and immediately locked onto it, watching as Kageyama’s hand slid off his thigh and landed palm-up on the seat beside him.

Hinata had an idea.

After another quick glance up to confirm Kageyama was still asleep, Hinata lightly placed his hand on the bus seat, a short distance away from Kageyama’s slightly curled fingers. He gradually inched closer until the outer edge of his pinky was touching Kageyama’s thumb. There was no response, so he moved it a bit further, little by little, until his palm was resting atop Kageyama’s.

Hinata’s stomach felt warm; the butterflies had built a campfire. He curled his fingers slightly around Kageyama’s, relaxing back into the seat. He could feel the rough calluses on the setter’s hand, distinct evidence of years of practice and devotion to his sport. That hand had set a thousand tosses to Hinata, maybe ten thousand. His heart squeezed at the thought.

The streetlights continued to steadily flash across the window, and Hinata synced his breathing to their rhythm. He felt the warmth of Kageyama’s hand under his, felt his eyes flutter shut. The muted roaring of the engine and the tires faded away, and the day’s exhaustion enveloped him once again.


End file.
